


This is Where We Start Again

by NyxEtoile, OlivesAwl



Series: Tales Through the Looking Glass [5]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AU of an AU, Deja Vu, F/M, Fixing Past Mistakes, Team as Family, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2019-10-27 07:38:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17762597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NyxEtoile/pseuds/NyxEtoile, https://archiveofourown.org/users/OlivesAwl/pseuds/OlivesAwl
Summary: On hiatus for completion of upcoming team fic---Clint pulled something out of his pocket and dangled it in front of her. It was an arrow necklace.Reaching out, she touched it with one finger. She hadn't thought much about the things they'd lost, along with the five years. She missed her cat and her cozy kitchen. But her life had burned and started over more than once, so she was used to closing off the old memories and finding comfort in new patterns.The original necklace had meant so much to her. It had meant she loved him long before she'd known how to say it. This one was a little different, but so were they. And it meant the world to her that he'd thought to get it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the 3rd concurrently posting story in this series. We're still actively writing them and trying not to spoil plot points, so we're posting them like this. We'll add in more stories as we finish some of these and get to writing them.
> 
> Starts during Chapter 4 of _Now the Time is Here_. (If you have found this and have not read that, it's the first in the series. This will probably make no sense unless you go read that one)
> 
> The title is from _Come to Me_ by Goo Goo Dolls, the same song _History's Like Gravity_.

Nat had been living in a constant state of deja vu since waking up on the helicarrier. Everything was so similar, yet just different enough to throw off her equilibrium and rattle her. She kept her calm exterior as best she could, focusing on one problem, then the next. Because what else was there to do? The world needed saving and they were the ones that needed to save it.

Now they were letting themselves into their hotel room, exhausted, injured, and dirty from their battle with the Chitari. It was as familiar as anything else, but at least it was also a moment of peace and time with Clint, with no audience or immediate crisis to deal with.

“Hey, come here,” he said, and he put his arms around her, tactical gear and all.

She slumped into him with a sigh, burying her nose in the crook of his neck to get his scent. That, at least, was exactly the same.

For a moment then just breathed each other. Then Clint muttered, “Just. . .I mean, what the fuck?” It sounded like a rhetorical question.

"I know," she said. "Right there with you.”

“Tell the truth. You just hit me way too hard on the head.”

"No, really. We're back in time.”

He chuckled, but it didn’t have much humor. “God.” After a long pause he asked, “Wanna take a shower?”

"Absolutely." She gave him a tight squeeze and leaned back to lead him to the bathroom.

The hotel had very fancy bathrooms. She remembered that from last time. Lots of space, huge glassed in shower. They stripped their gear while the water warmed up, and she made note that while they weren’t in as bad shape as they’d been after the first battle, they still had plenty of bruises and lacerations.

"So you got to skip breaking through the window this time?" she asked, running her fingers along the bruises on his ribs.

“Nobody tried to shoot me off the roof, so I didn’t have to.” He watched her hands. “And last time I felt much more reckless with my life.”

"Mmm, I think I did too." She looked up at him. "A lot has changed since then.”

He sighed a little and said, “We’re not married anymore.”

"Clearly we need to go back to Vegas.”

“We’ll put it on the list.” Steam was billowing from the shower, and he stepped backwards to pull her with him into the spray.

Hot water was life changing. For a few minutes they just stood under spray and let it wash away the worst of the aches and pains. When she felt capable of lifting her arms she grabbed the shampoo to wash her hair. He caught the bottle and took it from her. “I got it. Turn around.”

He liked taking care of her. It centered him and made him feel needed. So she kissed him lightly and turned around so he could do his thing.

“It’s so short,” he murmured as he lathered up the shampoo and began to massage her scalp.

She laughed. "I do a double take every time I catch a glimpse in the mirror.” 

“I like it.” He kissed the back of her neck. “It’s nostalgic.”

"But you want me to still grow it out?”

His hands stilled a moment, and he sighed. “We are stuck here, aren’t we?”

"Yes," she said quietly. "I think we are.”

The silence behind her stretched. Just as she was about to turn and try and get a read on his face—never an easy task even after a decade together—he slid his arms around her waist and pulled her back against his chest. “Yes. Grow it out.”

She covered his hands with hers. "As you wish.”

One hand slid up to cup her breast. “I could be happy anywhere as long as you’re there too.”

"That's what I figure," she murmured, leaning back into him. "We'll back each other up.” He didn’t reply, but she could feel him nod. She could also feel his other hand moving in the opposite direction. Down over her stomach, down between her legs. He didn’t touch her much, really, just let his hand rest with a couple fingers curved into the curls there.

Nat sighed, softly, leaning into him and letting him go at his speed. The touch felt nice and they had all night. "At least this doesn't change.”

“We’re younger,” he said. He traced his middle finger over her clit and she shivered. “Maybe it’ll be better.”

"The experience of years, but not the mileage?" She sucked in a breath as he pressed against her. "It has potential.”

“I knew you then.” His finger moved in small, maddening circles. Around and around and around. “But not like I know you now.”

She was pretty past the ability to form words, so she just leaned back and rocked her hips into his hand, pleasure growing inside her. His right hand still cupped her breast, and he rolled her nipple between two fingers, almost matching the motions of his left. And she could feel him hard and pressing against her ass. But he took his sweet time anyway.

Her climax shuddered through her and she could resist letting out a little moan as it crested. his arms tightened and he held her upright as she rode it out.

He kissed her shoulder and whispered, “That’s my girl.”

He probably deserved the little smug note in his voice. "Always," she told him. She expected him to nudge her to bend over, but instead he turned her by the shoulders, and tipped her head back to rinse the shampoo.

When he was done, he slicked some conditioner in and she took the shampoo bottle back. "Let me do you.”

His laugh had a rough edge. “Well that’s a double entendre if I ever heard one.”

"That was on purpose," she assured him. He groaned a little, cupping her face in his hands to kiss her. She wrapped her arms around his neck kissing him back. It was hot and needy and sent shivers through her. The kiss went on for a while, and then she dumped some of the shampoo into her hand, first for his hair, and then deciding it made perfectly good body wash.

It made everything slippery and somehow so much hotter. His hands trailed down her back, cupping and shaping her ass. He was hard against her stomach - as hard as she'd ever felt him. For the moment, nothing hurt and nothing outside of this shower mattered.

He backed her into the wall and she lifted a leg, hooking it around his waist. He lifted and she jumped and a moment later he was slipping deep inside her.

“Fuck,” he growled, perhaps the only appropriate exclamation at the moment. He had his hands under her thighs, lifting her until she wrapped her legs around his waist. She didn’t know how he had the strength to do that after today, but now he could slide her against the wall as he fucked her.

She dug her fingers into his hair and hung on. This was more about him than her at the moment, which was fine. She was still enjoying every thrust and slide. Another orgasm started to build and she closed her eyes, focusing on the heat and friction until it burst inside her. She gasped out his name, nails digging into his scalp and shoulder. She could feel him clutch at her legs, and his body shudder not a moment later. They were in that kind of tune.

His legs trembled but he stayed upright, easing her down to her feet a moment later. They were both breathing hard, but she gave him a wide smile when he looked at her.

“You are still the steadiest thing in my world,” he said. “In any timeline.”

She touched his jaw. "I intend to stay that way.”

Clint kissed her, and then he pulled her back into the spray so he could rinse the conditioner out of her hair.

Once they were both clean and rinsed he turned the water off and they stepped out, using every towel to dry off before collapsing into the bed. 

“We’re going to have to go to the meeting soon,” he murmured. “But I wish I could sleep.”

"Me too. I don't remember being this exhausted.”

“The first time I think we were. You passed out. I didn’t, but I should have.”

"Maybe I don't remember because I fell asleep." She rubbed his hair. "Think you'll sleep tonight?”

“Seems like a better idea than staying up and watching the news.” That was what he had done the night of the first battle. He watched news coverage and marinated in his misery.

"I agree." She kissed his shoulder. "Don't make me hit you on the head again.”

“I want to help find Barnes. I was in my personal hell for about half an hour. He’s still in his.”

That made sense. "I don't think Amanda will be able to do anything else until that happens.”

“I sure wouldn’t if it were you.”

"I didn’t."

“Yeah.” He sighed, rubbing her back. “It was such a bad time. I can’t believe we’re back in it.”

"I think it'll be better this round. We're all together.”

He tangled his fingers in her hair, winding damp curls around his fingers. “I promise not to beat the shit out of that dictator. Even if he did kind of deserve it.”

"You can still punch him a little.”

They drifted a little, not quite sleeping though they clearly both wanted to. Hunger got them back out of bed eventually, and they dressed to head up to the very elaborate penthouse suite. Nat remembered going up there for breakfast the first time. Clint had barely spoken and just sat there eating food off her plate. 

Now it was much livelier in there, with a lot more people. Someone had apparently ordered mediterranean food, as there was an abundance of hummus. Stark and his shawarma.

"Come have a seat," Stark said, waving them over. "We're working on gathering up the rest of us.”

“Food,” Clint said, making a beeline for the table where it was set up.

Nat detoured to say hello to Sharon. "God, you look like a baby."

She laughed a little. "Junior Agent Carter, at your service.” They’d fought together at the battle, but showered and in civilian clothes, Sharon looked more like a college student than a SHIELD Agent.

“Do we have everyone?” Nat asked.

“Cal went to pick up Jane and Darcy from the airport. Violet is in the bedroom putting Ada down for a nap. But yeah.”

"That's good." She hated to think of any of them getting stuck separate. At least Bucky, hopefully, was unconscious.

“Get some food,” Sharon said, “Then we’re going to set up in the dining room and see if we can hack our way into SHIELD.”

"Sounds like fun," she said, almost sincerely, before going to join Clint.

He’d stacked his plate high and grinned at her. He was certainly in a better mood than last time. She kissed him and stole a piece of flat bread from him on her way to get her own plate.

After dinner, she worked with Sharon and Amanda to try and pinpoint where Bucky would be held. It was Cal who ended up finding the right clue, after he showed up. Something about satellite dishes. Whatever it was, Amanda just about kissed him.

Then came the question of how, exactly to get him out of there, considering they weren't exactly subtle. Nat wasn't even a little surprised when Amanda suggested she go undercover at the Hydra base to free him.

She _was_ surprised to hear Clint say, “I’ll go with her.” Nat turned her head in time to see the muscle in his jaw twitch. “Right now there isn’t a single person in SHEILD who wouldn’t believe I’d turned.”

The others seemed to accept that at face value. Nat reached over and rubbed his arm lightly.

“When do we leave?” Amanda asked.

Clint sighed a little. “I know you don’t want to hear this—I know I wouldn’t if I were you—but I need sleep if I’m going to fly us to Siberia. Tomorrow morning at the earliest.”

She smiled a little. "I know what sleep deprivation does to people. Rest up, tomorrow is early enough.”

He nodded. “Thanks, Doc.”

With a sigh, she stood. "I'm going to go to bed myself. I'll see you all in the morning.”

Clint stood up too, holding his hand out to Nat. “Likewise.”

In the elevator on the way down, she said, "I feel weird about sending you into the belly of the beast.”

He rubbed his eyes. “Me too, I’m I’m honest. But we can’t send Doc alone, and I am the best candidate.” He looked over at her. “And she’d go alone. When that god damn robot had you, the minute I picked up your signals and figured out where you were, I wanted to just take a plane and go. Steve talked me out of it—and he was right.”

She took his hand and squeezed it. "I know. And I actually do trust her to watch your back.”

“I hated that fear and distrust I saw in so many eyes. After. It’ll be nice to put it to use.”

It was probably the best use of his current mood. "Bucky will probably be happy to see you, too. You guys. . . get each other.”

He nodded. “And I will help him kill whomever he needs to on the way out the door.”

"That would probably be cathartic for you.”

The elevator opened and they walked down the hall to their room. He waited until they were inside to say, “I think, by necessity, there will be a lot more assassination in the near future than the rest of them are comfortable with. That’s going to fall on you and me, and him.”

She nodded, because she'd been thinking the same thing. "It is what we're good at.”

Clint sat on the end of the bed. “I wish I could take you with me.”

"Me too. But this group needs an adult.”

He smiled at her. “Lest they kill each other over the stones? Probably.” He frowned. “I wonder if it’s making them squabble. The scepter.” 

She tilted her head. "Huh, I hadn't thought of that. I'll bring it up tomorrow, see if we can get some shielding on it.”

“I remember Bruce telling me once he felt like it was calling to him, telling him to pick it up.”

"Looking back, I'm sure it made that fight in the helicarrier much worse." She sat on the edge of the bed to kick her shoes off. "Even angry, we're usually more reasonable.”

“Fury does know how to push the buttons, too.”

"That didn't help," she conceded. She stretched out on the bed with a sigh. "Come get some sleep.”

Clint striped and climbed in next to her. “Have I told you I love you today?”

She blinked, then laughed a little. "I have no fucking idea what day it is.”


	2. Chapter 2

_”My partner, Romanov. If there’s some kind of high-end strike team, they’ll put her on it. She was a Russian spy and assassin before SHIELD converted her. I did, really. I was sent to kill her and decided not to.” It felt wrong to be talking about her. Romanov. Natasha. In his private thoughts, beneath the blue haze, he knew he called her by her name._

_”Tell me about her.”_

_He said so much. Too much. He’d given Loki a blurb on everyone. Info from Rogers’s file and the evaluation notes on Stark. Banner’s background and what damage the Hulk could do. Fury and Hill and Coulson and the power players at SHIELD. Bullet points. Natasha he could talk about all day. Her history and her skills, what she could do best and what she was most afraid of. He knew her as well as anyone on this earth._

_Loki stood there with his amused, smug smile. “You're in love with her, aren't you?”_

_”I suppose I am.” Clint had to answer all the questions. The answer made no sense, because he felt nothing at all, but it must be true._

_”Well, isn't that useful. Is it returned?”_

_Answering that made his stomach clench, though he had no idea why. Why did he care? “No.”_

_Loki came forward, swinging the scepter Clint couldn’t help but stare at. It was mesmerizing. “You’ll kill her for me, won’t you?”_

_”Of course.” Something inside him screamed, revolted, and for a moment he felt sick. Something was wrong. He was trapped in something he couldn’t get out of._

_Blue haze. There had been something before it. He had been someone without it. If he closed his eyes he could almost reach it._

_”Barton!” Loki poked him in the chest with the scepter, and the blue got deeper. His body filled with ice. “Tell me. Tell me how to kill them all.”_

It was still dark when Clint jerked awake. He sat up slowly and rubbed his face. It took him a moment to orient himself, spending a terrifying moment wondering if it all had been a dream and it really was still 2012. He felt the backs of his arms for cuts and bandages—he hadn’t imagined going through that window, and there was nothing there.

It had been a very long time since he’d had dreams about Loki.

Beside him, Nat stirred and rolled towards him. She made a sound that wasn't quite a word, but was definitely concerned and questioning. He reached to rub her arm and said, “Bad dream.”

"Loki?" she mumbled.

“Yeah, well.” He swung his legs over the side of the bed. Sleep wasn’t happening. “Welcome back to 2012.”

She mumbled and rolled onto her back, stretching. Then she sat up and rubbed his back gently. "You wanna go find a perch?”

He looked at the clock. “It’s 5:30. I bet Doc is up. I’m going to take a shower and see when she wants to head out.”

"All right." She kissed his shoulder. "Be careful.”

He turned enough to kiss her mouth. “I promise.”

"I'll hold down the fort, keep the home fires burning, cliche, cliche, etc, etc.”

“I love you,” he called as he went into the bathroom.

The shower helped, and then he and Nat got dressed. They received a mass text at ten to six saying breakfast was being served in the suite upstairs. Apparently _everybody_ was up early. 

He was hit with a wave of deja vu at the buffet spread on the table up there. Nat breezed past him to pile her plate with bacon and fruit. Clint decided to get his own plate, and sit at a different spot at the table, just for the sake of a different view.

Only some of them were there. Amanda, as he suspected, didn’t look like she’d slept much. Steve was there, but not Sharon. Bruce, with Neil in a carrier, but not Violet. Both Tony and Pepper were up, but looked like they wished they weren’t. Ruby was at the table in a high chair, smearing herself with yogurt and chortling like it was going to be a great day.

"At least someone is enjoying this mess," Amanda commented.

“She didn’t want to sleep,” Tony said. “It was awesome.”

Bruce patted Neil's back. "When Vi used to tell me about Neil's colic and fussiness I never really grasped how bad it was.”

“You people are making me really glad I don’t have children,” Clint muttered.

"Right?" Nat said. She popped a grape in her mouth. "We're kept awake only by our own demons.”

“So what’s the plan?” Clint asked. “I’m taking that SHIELD jet, right? The one we flew in on?”

Amanda nodded. "I know the done phrases his handlers uses at this time. So we'll fly in, I'll tell them I was sent to take him for testing before a mission. If I understand how the process worked, there should only be low-level guards there now, since he's not active.”

“Load him up and take him back to my house in California,” Tony said. “You can come in over the pacific so there’s less ATC to deal with.”

“Sounds good.”

"More confidence and bullshit?" Steve asked Amanda, which made her smile. "Sharon was impressed with your poker face."

"It's how I go through life.”

“Sharon said she used Peggy’s authorization codes,” Steve said. “Will you guys need that?”

“Nah,” Clint said. “Mine will do for this. Though I’m appalled hers still work, she’s been retired for like 25 years.”

“I have Howard’s,” Tony said. “That part of how I got in. The original top level accounts when the system was set up in the 70’s are basically permanent. Their infosec people should be drawn and quartered.”

“We should go through that data, too,” Nat said. “The stuff you pulled.”

“Jarvis has it in California.”

She nodded. "I can occupy myself with that."

"Want me to steal any info while we're there?" Amanda asked.

“No,” Clint said before anyone else could answer. “I don’t want this to be any more complicated than it has to be.” 

"Figured I'd offer.”

“You got anything you need to do before we go?”

"Just gotta grab my bag. I assume my absence at work has been explained by someone.”

“I talked to Hill,” Nat said. “They’re handling it.”

She nodded and took one last swig from her mug. "Then I'm good to go.”

Clint stood up, and went around the table to kiss his wife. Then he squeezed Steve’s shoulder as he went past. “We’ll be back with him as soon as we can.”

“Thanks,” Steve said quietly. “Good luck.”

Amanda gave him a perfunctory little nod, heading down to her room to grab a duffle bag before heading to the jet. They took a cab as far south as the roads were still open, and flashed their SHIELD badges to get past the police cordon to to hike down to Stark Tower, where it was still parked on the street in front. The hangar in the side of the building hadn’t been built yet, and SHIELD hadn’t collected their gear—so it was theirs for the taking.

They climbed on and stowed their gear. Amanda took the co-pilot seat while he took off. She was quiet, watching the scenery out the window. He didn't spend a lot of one-on-one time with Amanda, but once in a while he got a glimpse of why Bucky liked her so much. She had the ability to sit and be still and silent.

A lot of people were quiet with him because they knew he didn’t like chit chat. But that was always a slightly uncomfortable silence. A resentful or annoyed silence. A fidgety one. But now, he flew and she entertained herself. Eventually he heard the click of knitting needles and looked over at her. “Where did you get those?”

"I had them in my purse at work. This seems to be a hat.”

“The rest of them are probably going to start asking you for socks. I know I’ll miss mine.”

She sighed. "I'm going to have to start hunting for yarn, I don't know if they make the kind I like in this year.”

“I had no idea yarn had that much variance.”

"Stuff gets discontinued. I'm sort of a yarn snob, and for socks I have to make sure it's soft and cozy, but also tough enough you all won't wear holes in them." She fiddled with the ball of yarn a moment. "My mom taught me to knit when I was a kid and I didn't do it for years. I picked it up again when I got hurt because I was stuck in bed a couple months.”

“Probably helped train your good eye to take over for fine hand work.”

"That was the idea." She rolled her head side to side and stretched. "The doctors also thought it would be meditative."

"Is it?"

"Yes. But there are times in ones life that being alone with your thoughts is not beneficial. I was restless and in pain and traumatized. I needed distraction, not contemplation."

He sure understood that. "Maybe I should take it up."

"I'd be happy to teach you."

Clint hesitated a moment, then said, "Well, it is a long flight mostly on autopilot."

She looked over in surprise, looking at him a moment. Then she shrugged and looked down at her work. "This is pretty much ruined anyway, since I forgot the pattern." Pivoting the chair she held the knitting out. "Okay, we'll start with the basics."

It was a pretty good way to kill a couple of hours. And it got him out of his head far better than staring into the darkness.

When they got in sight of the base she gathered up the knitting and tucked it away. "Maybe you can help me with the sock replenishment."

Clint chuckled. "Maybe." He put in a request for landing clearance on the SHIELD frequency. "Suit up," he said to her.

She nodded and got up, heading to the back of the jet. He used his codes to land, and while there might have been a hesitation, there was no push back. He set down and took a moment to center himself.

Amanda had changed out of civilian clothes into black SHIELD tac clothes, hair pulled back. She glanced up when he came out of the cockpit, pinning her badge to her waist. "Ready?" she asked quietly.

He gave a short nod, and opened the back ramp. The door to the building opened, and two well-armed guards came out. Clint didn't blink, even if it made him a little uneasy. Then another man followed, jogging to them with the gunmen in tow.

"Agent Barton," he said as he reached them. "I had no idea you were one of us."

"Hail Hydra," he replied with a smile that made him a little nauseous. Charm was not his strong suit, and he longed for Natasha. "I think yesterday speaks for itself."

Amanda joined him before the other man could respond. Whatever surprise he'd had for Clint turned to suspicion looking at her. "And you are?"

"Newbury," she said, voice crisp. It was almost her Doc voice, but harder. "I'm an expert in the super soldier serum. I'm here to take the Asset for some testing."

"You got clearance codes?"

Without a pause, she replied, "Utah-Alpha seven seven two nine."

The man nodded. "Are you taking a tank or do you want him woken?"

"I'll wake him up, the tank is too bulky."

"Yes, ma'am, right this way." He turned on his heel and marched back to the door. Apparently those codes really meant something.

He fell in step behind Amanda as they lead them through the labyrinth of halls in the bowels of the base. He tried not to glance into any of the other rooms, deciding he probably didn't want to know.

They came into a large room with several large consoles, a padded chair with restraints on it, and a large, liquid filled tank with Bucky inside. He stared at it, standing at parade rest and deliberately not reacting. Amanda was equally stone faced; Clint could only imagine what she was feeling.

"Do you want me to stay?" their escort asked. "Sometimes he can be a little . . . combative."

"No, you can go," Amanda said dismissively, walking over to one of the consoles. "We can handle him and I'm sure you have other duties."

He nodded, gave Clint his own nod, and headed out.

Amanda exhaled audibly and started typing on her console.


	3. Chapter 3

Nat spent most of the morning on the phone with various people from SHIELD—just like she had the day after the first battle. Though it was nice to be having most of the conversations with Coulson. 

The party line, which she sold, was that Thor was taking Loki and the Tesseract back to Asgard. They needed the scepter to do it, and Tony's workshop to build it. It would buy them some time.

They had to pack everybody up and drive to New Jersey to reach an airport where Stark Industries's big jet could land. They had a lot of people, a lot of bags, and two cosmic object of infinite power. Space was good.

The Malibu house brought back memories of being undercover with Stark. She helped carry boxes for a while, then had to field more phone calls, then took a shift watching the security camera Tony had set up to watch Loki in his makeshift prison. None of it was interesting enough to keep her from fretting, but it was something.

Eventually team science got the portal generator set up to open somewhere in Asgard. Then Nat had to call Fury and explain the portal would be re-opening briefly and was not a cause for alarm.

She felt better once Loki was gone. She texted Clint to that effect, even though she knew he wouldn't answer right now.

Once that was done, everyone went off to their own endeavors. She helped clean up the left overs from lunch, then found herself at loose ends. She found an empty den and decided it was late enough in the afternoon to pour herself a drink.

A couple hours later, her phone chimed. _30 minutes out. Passenger acquired._

_Everyone got their normal amount of body parts?_

_And most of our sanity,_ came the reply.

She smiled and finished her drink. _Glad to hear it._ She stood and stretched. _I'll spread the word._

_I love you. I learned to knit._

Well, he had spent a long flight with an anxious Doc. _Love you back, can't wait to hear that story._

"Hey, JARVIS? Where's Steve?"

"He's in the gym. Ruining all of Mr. Stark's punching bags."

That sounded like him. "Thank you," she said, heading down there. Sure enough, there was a pile of broken bags by the door when she got down there.

Steve stopped when he saw her—which is good as he was on what looked to be the last one. "News?"

"They're thirty minutes out, all present and accounted for."

Steve sighed, his shoulders relaxing. It was, she thought, the first time she's seen him out of Cap Mode—you could tell by the shoulders—since they got here. "Did he say how Bucky was?"

"Sounded like he was more or less himself, but he didn't say much. If something had gone wrong he'd have told me."

"Okay. Thank you. I'm going to go shower so I don't knock him off the helicopter pad with my stink."

"All right. I'll see you up on the landing pad."

Many of the team came up to wait for the jet. "You remember that Thanksgiving we came here and fried a turkey?" Bruce asked.

Nat smiled fondly at the memory. "Steve made gravy out of thin air."

"Onions and butter," Steve said. "Tony mocked it, and then dumped it on everything."

Tony joined them. "It was fuckin' delicious you sexy grandma."

"I'll make it for you again when we redo that Thanksgiving in a few months," he said, squinting into the distance. "There they are."

Nat spotted the outline of the jet a moment later, sometimes Steve's super senses were a little crazy. When they got close a couple of them waved and Clint wiggled the wings before setting it down. She hoped that meant he was in a good mood.

The three of them came off the ramp together, looking none worse for the wear. Others went forward to meet them, but Clint came right to her. He smiled before he reached out for a hug. "We're going to need to paint a new Wife Line."

"We are," she agreed, wrapping her arms around him. "How'd it go?"

"Good. Disorienting. I managed to take proud credit for New York without vomiting, so. . ."

She rubbed his back. "You've always been good undercover."

Nat could feel him sigh, and relax. "Let's go inside."

"Come on." She tucked an arm around him. "I think tonight's plans involve more take out and trying to diagram all the crises of the last five years. Next five. Whatever."

"Well, the takeout part sounds fun. Can we get Chinese?"

They'd had some for lunch, but it had gone quick and if Clint wanted it she'd see it done. "Absolutely."

On the way into the house, he asked, "Does our room have good sightlines?"

"Yes, but it's mostly ocean, is that ok?"

He nodded. "I'll live."

"You can see up the coast a bit, too."

The room had a balcony, which made him happy, because he could go sit out on it. He looked tired and she wondered if she should worry.

"Need anything? I picked up your preferred soap and shampoo."

He stared at the ocean a moment. "Is he gone?"

She didn't need clarification. "Yes, Thor took him to Asgard a couple hours ago."

That got her a grin. "Then I am just fine."

"I'm glad." Stepping closer, she hugged him. "Love you."

"I love you," he said quietly. "It'll be okay."

For a few moments they stood by the window, holding onto each other and watching the waves crash. "Want a drink?" she finally asked. "I know where he keeps the good shit."

"I love you even more."

They enjoyed a couple glasses of good whiskey, before dinner arrived and everyone gathered to eat an obscene amount of Chinese food and start their whiteboard project.

There was a lot of arguing—and honestly a _lot_ of drinking. But they decided on something extraordinary, that certainly dramatically alter the future that they all had clearly accepted they were not going back to. Instead of taking SHIELD down, they were going to try and save it.

*

They all went to bed pretty late, but Clint took time to shower. Nat was in bed putting lotion on her legs when he came out, wearing just a towel. She took a moment to pause and enjoy the view. 

He didn't know why he felt like blushing, after all these years. "I was just thinking about how on the second night after the original battle, while trying to have sex you kneed me in my broken ribs."

"And yet you still performed admirably." She reached out and touched his ribs, hand slick with lotion. "Not broken?"

He shivered at the touch. "You remember that like Budapest. I think I shrieked and you put me to bed with a double dose of oxycodone."

She paused and tilted her head. He could see her remembering, then she chuckled. "Sorry, I mixed it up with the night before."

"Hey, I'll take your generous if inaccurate memory of my stamina." He grinned and sat on the bed next to her.

"What do you think of our crazy, future altering plan?" she asked, going back to her legs.

Clint reached and took the lotion from her. "It sounds impossible, but we've done impossible before."

"That's remarkably optimistic for you."

He put some lotion in his hands and rubbed them together to warm it up before spreading it on one of her calves. "It's been a weird two days."

She scooted back to the pillow, stretching her legs towards him. "Weird seems an understatement. We've seen weird. We might need to make up a whole new word for the last couple of days. Frabickle. Doyungus."

Clint laughed out loud, rubbing the lotion down to her foot. "What language are those words in?"

"None, I made them up. Like an author."

Something about the way she said that made him pause. "Your book is on a computer in the future." She'd started it this winter, while they were on their honeymoon, after talking about it for years.

"I know," she said quietly. "Lots of things are in the future."

He thought about the little black cat, the first thing that had been _theirs_. "Yeah."

"I'm giving myself permission to grieve that while still trying to be hopeful for the changes."

He nodded, leaning in to kiss her gently, before going back to putting on the lotion. She kissed the top of his head where he was leaning over her. "I love your hands."

"Only you," he said, pressing his thumbs into the arch of her foot. She groaned in a way that was almost entirely sexual. He grinned, moving to lotion her right calf and foot. She'd already gotten there, but that was beside the point.

She leaned back on the pillows, all but purring as he worked on her. "You spoil me."

He worked the lotion up to her thigh. "Sometimes." His fingers lightly massaged the muscles there, earning him some more groans. As he got higher, her night shirt rode up, making it very obvious she was naked underneath. He splayed his hand on her lower abdomen. "Tired?"

"God, not at all."

He made an approving noise, bending down and tossing one of her legs over his shoulder. She shuddered before he even touched her--anticipation was a powerful thing. He got a moan at the first sweep of his tongue. He felt her legs shake and she plowed her hands into his hair as he teased her. "Fuck, yes."

Taking her apart like this was his absolute favorite thing. She was wet and he slid two fingers inside her, earning him a gasp and a change in pitch. She rocked against him and pulled on his hair. He knew her perfectly, but was still surprised at how quickly he could make her come.

She shudder against him, whimpering, and he coaxed her through it, finally lifting his head as the last of the waves seemed to subside. This was Nat at her most relaxed and vulnerable, limp and sweaty and smiling sweetly at him when she finally opened her eyes. "Hey," he said quietly.

"Hello." She tugged her shirt up and off. "C'mere."

He kissed her mouth, a hot and messy kiss. He'd lost his towel and she wrapped her legs around him, so wet that sliding inside her was trivial. She moaned into his mouth, body clenching on him as he started to move. Her hands trailed along his back, gripping his shoulders. 

He pulled up enough to look down at her, to brace one hands on the headboard. He didn't want it slow and leisurely tonight. He wanted to pound into her, make her writhe and cry and dig her nails into his skin, until he could no longer hear his own thoughts.

She must have read it in his face, because she tightened her grip a little and arched. "Yes. Yes."

She tightened her muscles inside, too. For him or herself, he didn't know, but it felt so good. He trailed his left hand down over her breast, across her skin until it was between them, rubbing her clit with the bowstring callus on his finger, the one was fond of. Only her.

Sure enough, she cried out, bucking beneath him. For a few minutes they got lost in each other, giving and taking. Until he was sweating and panting and she was whimpering his name, coming around him in rough, shuddering waves. The pleasure wiped out everything in a blinding haze. Just like he wanted.

He sank down onto her and she sighed softly, arms wrapped around him, nuzzling his shoulder. Carefully he maneuvered them under the covers, and held her until she drifted off. He was hoping she'd sleep well enough that she wouldn't notice he didn't.

Clint laid there for a while, listening to her breathe. Then he carefully climbed out of bed and dressed silently. He wasn't sure what to do with himself, but it was a big house. There had to be something. 

Making his way out to the main room, he spotted a figure on the deck, looking out at the coast. A glint of moonlight on the hand told him it was Bucky.

Clint let himself out through the sliding door. He went and stood next to him on the deck, not saying anything.

"It's very quiet here," Bucky said finally. "I couldn't sleep."

"Me neither," Clint said. "Don't know that noise would help, though."

"It's quiet in the tank. Sound is. . . reassuring."

"Do your windows open?" You could hear the ocean loud and clear from the deck.

"I didn't think to try. 'Manda was asleep and I didn't want to bother her."

"Do you remember your time in there?"

He sighed. "Not really. It's hard to explain. It's sort of like a dream, I guess. I remember waking up and I have some memories of being put in. It more a collection of sensations and triggers."

Clint was quiet a moment. "I have clear memories. Can't which is worse."

"I remember some of the missions I did. In a very. . . detached way."

"Like being a passenger in your own body?" Funny he and Bucky never really discussed this, even though they both knew the other understood. The knowing was enough. And the details had been far behind them.

Had been.

He nodded. "Very much. Once they prepped and wiped me whatever part of me wanted to fight was just. . . too deep to do anything."

"Yeah." That was uncomfortably familiar.

"By the time Steve brought me to the Tower I'd processed a lot of it. But now it's back." He looked over at Clint. "Guess that's where you are, too."

"Yeah." He sighed. "Fuck time travel."

"Yeah." They were quiet again. "You want to go for a run or something?"

"I bet running on that beach down there would be _really_ exhausting." Pass-out exhausting. The kind where you're so tired you fall asleep no mater what your brain is doing.

"Sand is a bitch to run on," Bucky agreed.

Clint clapped him on the shoulder, and then started down the steps of the deck, to the long path that led down to the water.

They made it back to the house just as the sky was starting to lighten. Clint didn't know if it had helped Bucky at all, given the super soldier serum enhancements. but he was ready to pass out. They gave each other nod in the hall before heading into their respective bedrooms.

Nat was still asleep, tucked in a ball on her side of the bed. He climbed in and she curled into him. He sighed as he closed his eyes, feeling sleep tug at him. Maybe it would be okay. Maybe he was tired enough not to have nightmares.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for missing all my postings last week. I was out of town taking care of my little sister. Going to get back on track now!

The morning was consumed by the visit from Nick Fury, and the long and complicated debrief. He believed them without much hesitation, and they were left with a game plan to get things moving. 

He gave everyone who worked for SHEILD a couple weeks off to get their shit together. Since they were settling in for a little bit here, the girls all went on a shopping trip in the afternoon.

It took up most of the day, they arrived home with dinner for everyone, and new wardrobes. At dinner, everyone was in a good mood, which carried over into spending the last few gasps of daylight out in the pool and hot tub in their new swimsuits. Nat's wasn't as skimpy as it might have been if it was just her and Clint, but it was red, which made him smile.

"You look like you had a good day," he told her.

"It was nice," she agreed. "Girl time usually is."

"Bucky and I went for a hike. Shot some seagulls. It wasn't lingerie shopping, but it kept us busy."

"Good. I have something for you when we get back to our room."

He turned, and gave her a very private smile. "Do you?"

"Yes." She paused. "And also some new lingerie."

Curiosity was written all over his face. "Wanna go back now?"

She did enjoy stumping him sometimes. "Sure." She rolled to her feet and held out a hand. People whistled at them as they headed inside, but she didn't care.

She had tucked her lingerie into a drawer, but her present for him was sitting front and center on the bed. She picked up the bag and handed it to him, feeling oddly nervous. A small frown crossed his brow, and he opened the bag to withdraw the knitting supplies she'd brought him.

"Amanda said you seemed to like it and that this was a good beginner set-up."

"I do," he said, one corner of his mouth lifting. He rubbed the yarn between his fingers. It was dark green and blue—Amanda had told her knitting with black yarn was hard when learning. "I like this."

She smiled, proud of herself. "Good."

"It was just a soothing sort of thing to do. I don't know. Keep the hands busy."

"I understand. I think it's why she does it. Maybe the babies will enjoy blankets from Unca Clint."

"I was thinking of making a manly hat."

She kissed his cheek. "There is a hat pattern in the book."

"I love you." He paused. "There was lingerie, too, right?"

"Yes," She pointed. "In the drawer."

He turned his head to kiss her, backing her up against the dresser. "The bathing suit is good, too."

She hummed in pleasure, running her hands along his arms. "I'm glad you like it."

"Mind if I take it off?"

"I'd like nothing more."

*

Team Spy found room in the house to work and got to it, compiling what Clint quickly came to think of as his hit list. Though he wouldn't hit them all--they were hoping to root out and fire the lower ranking ones.

It seemed useful to organize them by clearance levels. The higher you were, the more damage you could do. A pattern emerged. "Nat, Sharon, come look at this."

"What did you find?" Nat asked, joining him by the window.

"All of our known Hydra people are Level 7 or below. And then it goes straight up to Pierce. I can't believe he doesn't have at least one lieutenant. Higher levels aren't crowded but I think at least one of the 8s would be dirty."

Both women stopped and stared at the list of names, Nat's arms crossed, Sharon's hands propped on her hips. "That's weird," Nat agreed.

"Could it be we just didn't run into any?" Sharon asked. "There must have been some."

Clint crossed his arms over his chest. "It was a bloodbath at all the facilities. Commanders would have been the first ones to have been taken out. I think most of them died."

Nat looked at him. "Are you getting at something?"

"I just meant you'll never know the loyalties of dead people. But if we miss someone at this level, we're probably fucked." He looked at Nat. "Have they built that crazy lie detector that you weren't supposed to beat yet?"

She tipped her head back. "It'll be another six months before they ask me to test it, so probably not."

"Fury is going to need high level people he can trust. We need to figure out who they are. Unearthing their command structure should be one of our first priorities when we go back to work."

"Agreed."

"I'll pick Amanda's brain again," Sharon said. "See if she remembers anyone else from when she was kidnapped. Even by description. It'll give us somewhere to start."

He made a notation on the glass. "The only Level 8's I'm sure are clean are Hand and Gonzales because their posts held. And, well, Steve." He looked over at Nat. "I know the Fridge fell and that place is _really_ hard to get into from the outside. We should look into Peterson."

"We need SHEILD intel," Sharon said. 

"Yeah," Clint said. "I'm going to go down and see if Team Nerd can spare a computer or two."

"Ask Cal, he's the most flexible thinking right now."

He passed Steve with a stack of boxes on his way out and waved. He went downstairs to talk to Cal about computers, and got talking to Amanda about people at SHIELD who might be evil. When he came back up, Steve, Bucky, and Tony were in the living room. "There you are. Wanna come ring shopping?" Tony asked.

"Uh, why? I mean, sure, but why."

Bucky hooked a thumb at Tony. "He's marrying Pepper and wants company."

Clint shrugged. "Okay."

He had no idea why that caused Tony to sigh and say, "Barton, I really like you."

"Is this everyone?" Steve asked.

Tony nodded. "Yeah, I think asking Bennett or Bruce would just panic them." He gestured to the door. "Come on, the car is waiting."

The jewelry store was fancy. Very fancy. He texted Nat. _I don't remember my credit card's limit in 2012._

_I bet if you look at Stark pretty he'll spot you._

He shook his head. _I will buy our wedding rings myself, thankyouverymuch._

_You want me to check your credit?_

_It scares me that you can._

There probably weren't a lot of people who could excite the sales people in a place like Harry Winston, but apparently Tony Stark would do it. "I need an engagement ring. My friends need some things, too. You can put it all on one tab."

_Nevermind,_ he texted Nat.

_Uncle Moneybags is impossible to resist._

Uncle Moneybags went into some back room in search of a Burma Ruby that Clint wouldn't be surprised if it cost more than a middle class house. The rest of them were looking at the regular stock.

"I'd say no," Steve said, "But I haven't gotten my back pay yet." The army had eventually done the math and decided it owed Steve seven or eight million dollars in accrued back pay for being MIA for 70 years.

"I don't have any money at all," Bucky said. "I don't even have ID."

"SHIELD is working on it," Steve assured him.

"I'll live off Stark's generosity. Amanda gets a nicer ring that way."

"He would want that, he's fond of her," Steve said.

Clint turned to the woman who seemed to have been assigned to help him. "I need wedding rings normal people would wear."

She smiled and pointed. "This way." She lead him over to a display on the far right. "These would be the simplest bands. They're still high quality gold and platinum, but less adornments."

He pulled his phone out again. _Diamonds? No Diamonds?_

After a pause, her answer appeared. _I mean. I don't HATE diamonds._

Clint looked at it a moment and sighed. "One of the ones with the diamonds going all the way around. And the plainest non-shiny platinum band you have." He texted Nat. _I don't remember your ring size._

_Seven and quarter. Yours is ten and a half._

_I love you._ He reported that back the saleslady.

She pulled them out and showed them for his approval. "I can have these boxed up for you. Our engraver is here today, if you wanted anything engraved while you wait." She gave the other two dithering in the corner with their sales ladies a significant look.

"Can your engraver do symbols? And possibly Russian?"

She blinked, then grinned widely. "Our engraver is Russian. Would you like to talk to him directly?"

"I would, since I have no idea how the word I want is spelled."

She nodded and went into the back of the store. A few minutes later she returned with a bent backed, ancient looking man who peered at Clint suspiciously. "You want engraving in Cyrillic?" he asked in an accent that Nat only slipped into when teasing.

"My wife is Russian," he said. "I lost my wedding ring and am getting new ones. The original had Russian in it."

"Hmm." He dug in his pockets and pulled out a dog eared little notebook. "What do you want it to say?"

"It is pronounced 'yastreb'. And the date, also in Russian." He realized their actual wedding date was in the future, and would look very strange. So he gave him the only other date he could think to. "March 24, 2007."

He scribbled it all down. "Same on both?"

"Hers had a little arrow and the date in numbers. Less space."

He nodded again and made another note. "Twenty minutes," he announced and shuffled back through the door behind the counter.

"Thank you," he said. He wandered over to where Steve and Bucky were hunched over one of the counters. "How we doing, boys?"

"Steve is an indecisive mess," Bucky informed him.

"They don't have anything that looks like the ring she had." He sighed. "It was an antique."

"I suggested we go find an antique store, but he wants to find something now. So now he's deciding between classics." He pointed to one display. "Or something more art deco." He tapped a different area.

"That is, at best, a shape that is evocative of art deco," Steve said. "It's still very modern. So. . . I don't know."

Considering Nat and his requirements for jewelry ended at "not flashy or likely to snag on a gun slide" Clint didn't think he'd be much help. He scanned the display next to him as the two soldiers debated shape and style and Sharon's personal style and-

"That one kind of looks like your shield," Clint commented, pointing at a ring in the counter to his left.

"You don't think that's a little too. . . on the nose?"

He shrugged. "She wears your merchandise. She wouldn't have met you if you weren't who you were." He paused, they figured the sales people were far enough away not to hear him. "Nat has an arrow necklace that's her favorite piece of jewelry." Except she didn't have it anymore. He frowned, trying to remember where it was from.

Steve seemed to understand the face he made, because he said, "We'll find it."

"I remember the box was blue." He shrugged. "Anyway. It was a suggestion. Our women seem to like our symbols."

"I suppose I can always return it if she hates it."

Bucky flashed him a thumbs up behind Steve's back when he turned to flag down a sales girl.

Clint texted Nat. _Captain America is the most authoritatively decisive person I've ever worked with. It entertains me Steve is not._

She sent him a laughing emoji. _Was there perseverating?_

_Much._

"What color blue?" Steve asked. "The box."

"Mmm?" Clint replied. "Blue is a color."

Steve sighed. "Was is a lighter blue? With a little green in it?"

"I think." He could ask Nat, but suddenly he didn't want to. He wanted to find this thing on his own.

"That's Tiffany's," Steve said confidently. "Do you remember when she got it?"

"Before SHIELD fell, but not by much." He didn't want to throw future years around in public, even if he was talking quietly.

"They might be in the store now, we could check when we're done here."

Clint felt himself smile. "Couldn't hurt."

His came back from the engraver, then Bucky sent his back to have something done in Doc's, also in Russian. By the time his was done Tony had emerged and they were ready to have everything boxed up and paid for.

"That's more modern than I'd have expected," Clint said of the one Bucky had chosen.

He shrugged. "The swirls made me think of her tattoo. And apparently it was based on a design from the 40s."

"I like it," Clint said. 

They were back in the car before Tony showed them what he'd bought, which was a big, blood red ruby surrounded by diamonds. Bucky asked, "Do I want to know what that cost?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Quarter mil?"

"Okay," Clint said. "We're going to go stop at Tiffany."

Tony's brow furrowed. "Do I want to know why?"

"I have something I need to buy. You all can wait in the car if you don't want to make a scene."

"That might be best," Steve said before Tony could say anything. "We've made enough press today."

"Already?"

"People were definitely taking pictures when we left."

By the time he'd gotten his necklace—it wasn't the same one, but it was an arrow—their visit had been reported on the celebrity gossip sites. Which was exactly what was intended. Though it amused the hell out of Clint that they thought he and Bucky were bodyguards. He did make note of the fact that they were both dressed in all black.

"I'm willing to accept I need a bodyguard out of the suit," Tony said as they waited for their massive dinner order at what was apparently his favorite taqueria. "But Steve?"

"What do you think I did in the war, Stark?" Bucky asked. "When Mr. Let's Paint a Target on my Shield wasn't giving away my position."

"Bucky has been my bodyguard since Kindergarten," Steve said in agreement.

Clint sighed. "So I have to watch Tony? I don't approve of this."

"Don't worry, Barton, I'm pretty boring these days."

A voice from behind the counter called out. "I have an order for. . .Stank?"

"Right here!" Bucky said, pointing at Tony's head. "T. Stank, right here."

He sighed and shook his head. "Come help me with the boxes, assholes."

It took all four of them to load up the car, then they drove back to Tony's house as the sun was starting to dip low in the sky.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I (Olives) injured my wrist, so my posting is off. I don't remember what was due when, so I'm putting one of each up tonight.

After dinner, Nat decided she deserved a bubble bath after her day of wading through Hydra memories. Pepper kept a nice assortment at the house and she borrowed something that smelled of lavender and fresh linen and filled the tub to the brim.  
She was not at all surprised when Clint came to watch her soak.

"Did you have a fun time spending Stark's money?"

He leaned in the doorway. "I did. We have wedding rings once again."

"Yay. Is mine sparkly?"

"Very. And mine is very boring. But I did get something else I thought you might like."

That piqued her interest. He was not a random jewelry purchaser. "May I see?"

"After your bath," he told her.

She pouted but sank back into the bubbled. "Mean."

He winked at her, of all things, and ducked back out the door.

Intrigued as she was, she made a point of staying in the bath until the water cooled. She might have even dozed a bit. It had been a couple days, but she still felt a little jet lagged. She blamed the time travel.

When the water was noticeably cooler, she climbed out and wrapped herself in a towel, drying off her legs a bit before heading into the bedroom.

He'd put on his pajamas and was watching TV. The news was going on about the Avengers being in California. Apparently today's foray had alerted them to that fact. "You know," he said. "They don't have any clear shots of my face."

"Your camera radar is impressive and apparently unconscious."

"I'm just that good." He held out an arm. "Come here."

She sat on the bed and scooted over to sit next to him, still wrapped in her towel. "I see you've been demoted to bodyguard."

"Fine by me. It's good cover, and it means people aren't interested in me. Or, apparently, Bucky. JARVIS, turn the TV off."

It blinked off and Nat sighed, settling against his arm. He pulled something out of his pocket and dangled it in front of her. It was an arrow necklace.

Reaching out, she touched it with one finger. She hadn't thought much about the things they'd lost, along with the five years. She missed her cat and her cozy kitchen. But her life had burned and started over more than once, so she was used to closing off the old memories and finding comfort in new patterns.

The original necklace had meant so much to her. It had meant she loved him long before she'd known how to say it. This one was a little different, but so were they. And it meant the world to her that he'd thought to get it.

"Thank you," she said softly, voice thick.

"We'll be okay," he whispered.

She rolled closer and hugged him tightly. "We will."

He held her, and for a while they were just quiet together. Eventually he said, "I was thinking about something today."

"Mmm? What is it?"

"The Level 8 issue. If we asked Fury to give me a promotion, I'd be one and that might make it easier to root them out. Or, well, _be_ that person. People all over SHIELD are wondering if I'm about to get bounced over New York. I claim the promotion was from Pierce and it will cement my Hydra cred. They think I'm one of them, might as well use it."

She smiled. "You know, Sharon and I were thinking something similar. If those of us going back to work can do some double agent work, we'd have a much longer, surer list."

"It's a good idea. And we're a good crew to do it. I don't worry about any of our nerves."

"She thinks Steve and Tony will fuss. I think Bucky won't be happy about Amanda being part of it. But she's already put her neck out getting him out. She's almost the one who _has_ to do it. Else we'll have bigger problems."

"Yeah, her and I are now in this for the duration. Steve may fuss about Sharon."

"I trust Sharon to tell him where to stick it, then call Peggy and tattle on him, so she can do the same."

Clint laughed. "Fair enough."

"Sharon said she'd talk to Amanda tonight or tomorrow. Hopefully once she's onboard we can present a united front to the others."

"I don't see what other options we have."

"I agree, but you know how the Dads get."

They were, as it turned out, more amenable than anyone had expected. 

"The sooner we get Hydra cleared out, the better it will be," Steve said.

"It's the most straightforward way of getting real evidence," Sharon agreed.

Tony looked over at Amanda. "You're all right with this?"

Bucky was sitting next to her looking sulky, but she just nodded. "I've already declared myself Hydra getting James out. This way I might be able to get some useful research for my work without raising any flags."

"Okay," Clint said. "I'll call Fury and get the ball rolling."

Steve nodded. "Sounds good."

*

They were having a wedding, and needed formalwear. Nat called in a favor and got someone at SHIELD to ship out a suit and gown for her and Clint—they had them for work, as occasionally their work got a little James Bond. She hadn't been specific, but was delighted they sent her favorite red dress.

Sharon was able to borrow something from Pepper's copious selection of gowns, but the rest of the women and probably all of the men were going to need to buy something. And Pepper needed a wedding dress, so there was more shopping to do. Nat tagged along—it was a break from going through files.

"I still think you can wear something slinkier."

Sharon and Darcy were valiantly trying to get Amanda to sex it up. She was having none of it. "It's a garden wedding, not a night club."

"That's why you get a long dress," Nat told her. "It magically becomes elegant."

"We're on a schedule," Amanda said. "Don't we have to meet Pepper at noon? And still find a dress Violet can nurse in?"

"Your sex life is very important to me," Darcy told her solemnly. "I want to make sure you're properly setting the mood."

Amanda's mouth twitched at the side. "You're sassier in the past."

"I'm a twenty six year old brain in a body that's regularly getting carded and called 'sweet heart.' Behold the field in which I grow my fucks, it's barren." She shook the dress she was holding at her. "Try it on."

"Fine. Just this one."

"I'm not interested in a sexy dress," Violet said when Amanda went into the dressing room. "Just saying that now."

"Which is ironic, given your need for boob access."

"When Neil sleeps—which is in and of itself miraculous—it is _on_ one of us. There's nothing happening."

"Spoiler warning," Jane said. "But yesterday the babypod was airborne."

Violet looked at her, wide eyed. "Don't give me false hope."

"I'm just telling you what I saw," she replied with a grin.

"Bruce has been holding out on me."

"It flew into the ceiling last night," Amanda said, coming back out in her dress. "He's cautious."

"I appreciate that about him."

"You look really hot," Darcy informed Amanda.

"Your input is noted."

"So?"

Amanda scanned their faces and Nat resisted the urge to tap her watch pointedly. Finally she sighed. "Fine, I'll get this one." She turned on her heel and went back into the dressing room before Darcy could start her little wiggle of triumph.

Nat was really amused to watch Darcy nudge Pepper out of her comfort zone in finding a wedding dress, too. That girl had talent.

"You missed your calling as a con artist," she told her as they headed back to the car.

Darcy smiled brilliantly. "Thank you."

"You ever get bored with what you're doing, you should come work for SHIELD."

"If we manage to dig all the nazis out of it, I'll consider it."

"That's a very fair point."

Tony had brought in a private chef to make them dinner so they could stop getting take out. It was delicious, and Nat thought she could get used to having a three or four course meal every evening.

"I feel like a kept woman," she told Clint later.

He laughed. "I try to think of it as an op."

She grinned. "Assassination or intel gathering?"

"Intel now. Killing later." 

"Mmm, my favorite kind." She stretched her arms over her head. "Got any good dish?"

"You're reading the same old files I am." A bunch had been brought over from the Stark Industries archives, and they'd found a variety of shady things about Obadiah Stane.

"Until my eyes cross," she confirmed. "I think we should take more breaks. This is the kind of stuff that wears on one's psyche."

"There's just. . . a lot to do."

"I know, I know." She sighed. "It's just. . . dispiriting to see so many names I recognize. It's like the days in the dam with Maria all over again."

Clint sighed. "Yeah. I remember. Taping up all those lists on sheets torn from a yellow legal pad."

"This is a little easier since they aren't surprises anymore. At least not most of them. But it still makes me want to take a shower and a long walk."

"I think my psyche is still to preoccupied with Loki to pay attention to all that too much."

She nodded and looked back at the papers, before looking at him again. "Think a shower and a walk on the beach would do you any good?"

"I take night runs when I can't sleep."

"Amanda said Bucky's been going with you?" She didn't want to sound like a fretting wife, but she was, a little bit, fretting.

Clint nodded. "We don't chat much, but the company's good."

"Bucky is good at being silent but present." Which was how he was friends with Clint.

He watched her a moment. "You fishing for something, Tasha?"

She pursed her lips, considering how to phrase it. "I feel like we're both processing this whole mess separately. I just wanted to check in that we were okay with that."

"Sounds like you're not."

"I am trying not to overwhelm you because I know you're dealing with a lot. But I feel like I'm repressing and don't know how to fix it."

He sighed heavily and sat on the end of the bed. "We didn't train for time travel any more than we trained for monsters and magic."

"No," she agreed, moving to sit next to him. "I keep telling myself that I've lost my life before. Started over from scratch. But I realized at the wedding that I've never lost a life I actually liked before. It's different."

"Yeah," he said. "I suppose thinking of it as a mission means I don't have to deal with that part yet."

"That makes sense." She rubbed the back of his hand with a knuckle. "I don't know where I was going with this. I just. . . felt like I was building up some of those walls that used to make it hard for us. And I don't want that to happen."

"It's a fair point. And I am probably contributing to that because I'm a bit head's down."

She inclined her head. "You are, and I don't blame you for it. I know talking it out doesn't do you any good."

He put his arm around her. "I am good at listening. I don't interrupt or get antsy for my turn to talk. Because I don't like talking."

"I don't want to add to your worries. I know you're dealing with things, I don't want you to feel like you have to take on my problems, too."

"I don't need to take them on," he said. "I just need to periodically nod." The corner of his mouth lifting was the only way you could tell he was making a joke.

" _And_ make sympathetic grunts."

"Well, of course. I have manners."

She smiled and leaned her head on him. "Thanks."

"I love you," he said quietly.

"I love you back. Always."

He ran his fingers through her hair, a gentle and comforting gesture. "And if you want to talk about it, I really am here."

Nat nodded, then said quietly, "I miss London."

Clint blew out a slow breath, and said, "So do I."

"Do you think getting a new cat would help?"

He looked down at her. "I think if she'd died, that what we would do. We wouldn't want the empty apartment full of cat trees and would be at the shelter pretty soon. But we may need to wait until we get genuinely settled." 

"At least until we get to DC," she agreed. "See how much space we have."

"Betcha the Barneses get one, too. Some. Many. What did they have back home, three? And the dog?"

"Two cats and Panzer. One of the cats was a pirate and the other one had a seizure disorder." Lady had been adorable and very sweet, but there had been no lights on in the attic when you looked in her eyes.

"I miss that dog. And he's not even mine."

"He was a good boy. We'll never know what he and London were plotting."

Clint's sigh was heavy and sad. "Yeah."

She wrapped her arms around him and gave him a tight squeeze. "I think there'll be a lot of us at the SPCA in DC."

"I'm glad we're starting over together," he said. "I don't think I could do it otherwise."

That, at least, she agreed with completely. "It's better with company."

*

The wedding, Clint had to admit, was pretty nice. And it was nice to take the break. Drink champagne, eat cake, dance a little. There were few sights he enjoyed more than Natasha all done up in a fancy dress. Particularly when he got to peel her out of it.

Friday morning, they'd tagged along with Tony and Pepper when they went to get their marriage license, and he and Nat got one for themselves. Darcy filled it out on Sunday morning, before she and Cal flew out to DC.

Buying a house of the size they needed seemed like it would be an enormous undertaking, but apparently no so for a billionaire. It helped that someone had built and was trying to sell a particularly tacky mansion.

Pretty much everyone declared it the ugliest fucking thing they'd ever seen. But it had 11 bedrooms, almost as many bathrooms, plus enough space for Team Science to set up shop. So Darcy and Cal went out to get things set up and furniture moved in and the rest of them would pack up and follow a week later.

During that week, Team Science worked on getting the Mind Stone broken up, and both it and the Tesseract off the planet. Clint heartily approved of this. But he also stayed a good distance away from it all.

A secure line had been set up so they could talk to Fury or Hill. Mostly it was Hill, because she was less prone to keep interrupting with cursing.

"He's just not handling it well." Hill wrote something one her notepad. "He has trust issues. He really wants you to be wrong about Peterson." She looked back up. "You really think you can conduct espionage? Charm isn't really your strong suit, Barton. Nor is deception."

"He's great at listening and not being noticed," Sharon said. "That can work, too."

"What I have is street cred," Clint said. "They'll be predisposed to believe me. I helped create the biggest piece of international chaos in years. I can tell the whole story of how I helped bring on an alien invasion. Without a single lie." That had been the worst of it, with Loki. He'd been himself—his skills, his knowledge—but yet someone else entirely.

Hill still looked skeptical. "That's gonna be a really shitty time for you."

"Using it to prevent what happens in our timeline is the closest thing to atonement I will ever get."

"Fair enough. And you two are confident the doctor can handle it? Our records of her show no field experience."

"In our timeline," Sharon said. "That couldn't be farther from the truth."

"Yeah, I would not worry about Doc," Clint said. "She once took a man down with an arrowhead she pulled out of the wall."

Hill's brows went up. "I'm sorry I missed that."

"We'll all go out for drinks when we're back in DC," Nat said. "You guys get along."

"Good to know. So it'll be you two, Doc, and Nat? Do you want me to feed you information so we can track its flow?"

"That'll be a good idea, yeah."

She jotted another note. "We'll think up some good ones."

"We'll be in town next week, if you need anything."

"I'm sure there'll be something. Have fun packing."

Clint signed off and stood, nodding to Sharon. She waved, digging back into her files. He wasn't in the mood to find names, so he let himself out, wondering if Bucky would be up for a run.

He didn't find Bucky, but Amanda, coming down the hall from her room. "I've been looking for you," she said.

He gave her a smile. "Hey, what's up?"

She held out a bundle of grey and white. "Socks. Thank you for coming with me to get James."

Clint reached out to take them. Amanda's socks were absolutely the best thing. "Thank you," he said quietly. He looked up at her. "But you know, I didn't do it for you."

"I know. But it was probably one of the worst days of my life, and you were good company." She waved at the socks. "And I had to start with someone."

"I am honored," he said. "And I love these damn things."

She smiled. "Once I've finished the rotation I'll make you more. And I'll do Nat next so you don't get yours stolen."

That made him chuckle. "Good idea."

"James is out by the pool if you want to go run."

He blinked. "Did Time Travel give you psychic powers?"

"You have a certain look when you're looking for someone, and I know you were just in the research room, because that's where JARVIS said you were. So you're probably stressed and looking for someone, which means James for a run or Nat for sex. And Nat is out with Darcy getting some groceries." She shrugged. "I've had the situational awareness powers since I was six."

He thought about Hill's concerns about her field experience. "Do me a favor, do the Sherlock Holmes thing to Hill when we get back east. You'll make her day."

"I'll do my best."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back! At least one more chapter of this will post, and then we'll have some new stuff coming for this series.

"You good to fly us out," Nat asked the morning they were supposed to leave California. Clint still wasn't sleeping well, and she didn't know if the move was going to make that better or worse.

"I am," he said. "I'm not that tired." She appreciated he was generally honest when taking everyone's lives into his hands. Unlike some other people.

"Just checking." She kissed him. "Darcy promised we had a room with sight-lines."

"Darcy knows me well," he replied with a genuine smile. He and Darcy played video games together. Or had.

"She also warned me the walls were a hideous color."

"I'm sure we can paint."

She was trying not to think about being there that long to paint.

Loading the jet was as chaotic as ever, especially with no Darcy there to herd cats. She and Pepper did their best, with Violet wrangling the kids, but they still did about five head counts before they were confident everyone was on board before giving Clint the go ahead to take off.

The air pressure got to the kids, and at one point all three of them were crying in unison. Clint, as ever, seemed unfazed.

"It's almost a crime you'll never be a dad," Nat commented after retreating to the cockpit. "You could handle colic like a champ."

"Don't worry, I'm screaming inside," he replied, so deadpan she couldn't tell if it was a joke or not.

"Well, I'm close to throwing someone out an airlock, so you're doing better than me."

"Your taste in murder has always been louder and more dramatic than mine."

"I'll own that." She stretched and looked out the window. "How's Stark coming on your arrows?"

"He's still backlogged. But SHEILD is still running, and they had some fun ones. I'll hit the armory when we're back at work."

"How are you feeling about that?" she asked carefully.

He huffed out a breath. "We really need to have this conversation while I'm flying a jet full of screaming babies?"

"No, probably not. Just opening the door to have it when you're ready." Sometimes he held back talking so he could be strong for her. She was working on reminding him he didn't have to, and not taking for granted he was fine. 

She got a single nod from him, and the hint of a smile, which was probably the best she could hope for right now.

After a while she could hear Violet's tone getting a little desperate and decided to go back to see if she could help. To her surprise, she thrust a dozing Neil into her arms. "Just walk around with him while we deal with the toddlers." She gripped Nat's arm and looked her dead in the eye. "Constant. Motion."

Violet could be remarkably scary when she wanted to be.

She walked back and forth a while, then made her way back to the cockpit, swaying with the baby as she stood by Clint's chair.

"I love you," he told her, probably for the quiet. Infant screams were the most piercing and the most instinctively bothersome.

"I was told to move constantly. So far it's working." She shrugged, and Neil nuzzled her, yawning. "I think the boobs help."

"There are few situations in life not improved by your boobs, Tasha."

"I want that on my tombstone. Here lies Natasha, her boobs improved almost all situations."

That got her a _full_ smile.

The kids chilled out just in time for him to start his descent and the air pressure change to start the crying all over again. Neil started fussing and she went back to Violet, who handed her a bottle with a desperate look on her face. Which is how she ended up in the co-pilot's seat, bottle feeding a five month old as they landed.

"That's probably against some FAA regulation," Clint said as he set the jet down on the lawn. Something that was probably also against FAA regulations.

"My seatbelt is on," she said mildly.

"Lap children become projectiles in a crash. Couple famous crashes they were the only fatalities."

"What an image." She shifted Neil onto her shoulder to burp him. "We good to get out?"

"Yep." He hit the button to lower the ramp and called, "Mind the gap."

They lingered in the cockpit a minute for the rest of the horde filed out before heading out to the lawn. Neil was alert but not screaming, which was probably best case scenario.

Clint looked up at the house as he crossed the lawn. "Inside's not an improvement, is it?"

"According toe Darcy, no, it's much worse."

"I hope Stark got a bargain," he replied.

It was . . . comically bad, inside. Nat was pretty blasé about her decor and surroundings. She had things she liked, but appreciated most decorating styles. The house they were moving into seemed to have been aiming for "luxury hotel" and had fallen somewhat short of it. The carpet was industrial, the fixtures were opulently tacky, and the floorpan was bordering on non-euclidian."

Their room had yellow flowered wallpaper that was slightly fuzzy, which Clint discovered because he had to touch everything.

"I find myself wondering if it's all right to be breathing that in."

"You think it's like the Victorian arsenic wallpaper?"

"I mean, it was built recently, so hopefully not?" She shifted Neil more to her hip, somehow she still had him. "But the word flocked just concerns me."

"I'll put some paint over it."

"Thanks." She kissed his cheek. "There is a decent view, at least."

He went to the windows. "There is. Thank you." He stared out at the landscape. "Was a long flight. I think I'm going to go for a run."

"Don't get lost," she teased. "I'll see if I can return Neil to his rightful owner."

"I never get lost," he said, giving her a kiss before she left.

She headed down to one of the many living rooms to find someone to pass the baby off to. 

*

Clint was the first of them to get summoned back to the Triskelion. Fury called just him, and he thought about how uncomfortable—perhaps even terrified—he would have been to do so in the original 2012. The blue haze had infested his dreams, sure, but he'd made peace with the staggering guilt, and didn't feel a desperate need to take Natasha with him as some kind of bodyguard or security blanket. 

People would stare, or people would avert their eyes. There would once again be whispers and occasional outright hostility. He just didn't have to take it in. And when it was over he knew he could go home to a bunch of people who trusted him implicitly. Who had his back. It helped.

Still, he felt a bit prickly when he stepped into Fury's office.

"Barton. Have a seat."

Fury was behind his desk. "What can I do for you sir?" Clint didn't like how serious he looked.

"There have been requests that you have a psych eval."

"Oh." Clint laughed a little. "Uh, yeah. You did that last time, too."

Fury made a face. "Did you pass?"

"Yeah. Though, to be honest, I shouldn't have. You need better shrinks."

He chuckled. "I've been known to ignore their recommendations, from time to time."

"Well. In any case. I'm fine to talk to one now. Just don't hook me up to a lie detector or anything."

"Wouldn't dream of it. I'll call down to medical and have them send someone up. Hopefully it'll be less painful than your first go around on this."

Clint was quiet a moment. "To get into the Hydra base, to get Barnes, I told them I did it on purpose."

Fury nodded. "Hill mentioned that. If Hydra is as under the radar as you all said they were, I doubt that's going to make its way around."

"If it does, find the source. It came from someone who's dirty."

"I can do that too."

"We're still working on our list. Getting everyone back to work will help with that."

"Once the eval is done, I'll get you your promotion. I need to know who I can trust in my command structure. Anything else you all need from me, just let me know." He paused. "That's quite the monstrosity you've moved into."

He wasn't even going to discuss that--why Fury knew or cared, he couldn't fathom. "Will that be all, sir?"

"Yes. Thank you."

The meeting with the shrink wasn't as bad as Clint remembered. But, God, did he still hate talking about it.

Nat met him in the foyer when he got back to the house. "Saw you coming. How'd it go?"

"Got lots of side-eye in the cafeteria," he replied.

"Punch any of them?" she teased.

"It was a near thing." He made his way back to the kitchen. The island in the center wasn't really an island. It had columns surrounding it, like a four-poster bed with a giant commercial range in the center. But it did have good burners, and he got himself a pan to make popcorn.

"Next time I'll be next to you and I can punch them." She perched on a stool opposite the island. "They have bags that do that in the microwave, you know."

"Stovetop is better. And Darcy said if anyone put popcorn or fish in the microwave their toilet paper would be replaced recycled cardboard."

Nat chuckled. "Darcy is a harsh mistress."

He put his oil and kernels in the saucepan and put it on the stove, turning up the heat and then adding the lid. "Had my psych eval."

Her lips pursed. "Ask the same questions?"

"Almost to the word. It was kind of creepy." He shook the pan, and slowly the kernels began to pop.

Nat was watching the pan. "Any easier the second time?"

"I am far more practiced at being 'fine'."

"I suppose that's a plus." She reached over and ran her fingers along his forearm. "Fury give you a hard time?"

"No. He was his usual cryptic self. I will soon be a level 8." She was looking up at him with those eyes of hers, the ones that peeled all manner of things out of people, particularly him. She was the only one who could. "It was just weird to be there, Nat. To see walk the halls and see him sitting behind that desk."

She nodded. "Worst kind of deja vu?"

"We all say that a lot, don't we?"

"And we didn't even need time travel for some of it."

The corn was popping rapidly now, loud enough neither of them spoke. He watched it fill until the lid began to lift. "I'm ready to go back to work. I feel like I'm underfoot here, and it's only making me more unsettled."

She lifted a shoulder. "I can go back whenever. I'm a little done with sitting home and occasional baby duty."

"Good," he said. "I'll tell Fury. Can you get me the butter and salt?"

Without a word, she hopped off the stool and headed to the fridge for the butter. "I'm trying to remember what our first assignment was. Or will it be different since we know different things."

"Istanbul. Terrorist cell." He remembered because back then he didn't sleep much or well without her, and once they went back to work he was only with her on missions.

"Ah yes. Such fun."

"Thought I wouldn't be surprised if they had us doing different things. I honestly hope they do." He tossed the popcorn in a bowl with the butter and salt. "Might help the deja vu."

"Maybe I'll put in a request." She stole a piece of popcorn. "This is, admittedly, better than bagged."

He grinned at her. "Of course it is."

"Wanna go watch a movie in the theater?" The house did, in fact have a movie theater in the basement.

He gave her a sideways look. "The door have a lock?"

"I do believe it does."

She made everything better.


	7. Chapter 7

Going back to work was remarkably anticlimactic. They weren't given the same assignment, which was nice, but the looks Clint got were just the same. Nat felt unsettled and a little bored and Clint's sleep didn't seem to have improved.

Part of her was tempted to go get a black kitten and hope it helped. The house wasn't quite ready for pets yet, but it did give her an idea.

"I need your help," she told Steve and Bucky after tracking them down in the makeshift gym.

"Please don't tell me there's more carpet to rip," Bucky muttered.

"Hey, that was fun," Steve said. "I thought it was."

"You enjoy flexing for an audience more than I do."

"I don't know that I'd say I enjoy-"

"You're both pretty. It's not carpet, but it does involve heavy lifting. Though probably less of an audience."

Steve turned and looked at her. "Does it involve breaking the law?"

"Surprisingly, no. I need you to move some furniture."

They both shrugged in near unison. "Okay," Steve said.

"Excellent. Come on, I have a U-haul waiting."

They exchanged a glance but didn't say any more, following her outside.

She drove them into the city, to the apartment building she lived in at the time. The key fit neatly in the lock and she revealed the apartment, with a thin layer of dust on everything. "I'm going to grab some clothes. But mainly I want that couch."

"Where are you going to put it?" Steve asked. "Wait, is this the same couch you have in the tower?"

"Yes it is. And it's going in the room Clint and I are staying it. It will fit, I measured."

She left them in the living room taking the sectional apart, and went into her bedroom. There was the deja vu again. She supposed it wasn't deja vu, really, but memories. Just. . . more unsettling. Clint had spent several days here recuperating after Loki the last time. Maybe not having that time alone had been hard on him

She shook it off and dug her suitcase out of her closet and started grabbing her favorite clothes.

Having two super soldiers carry her couch down was much more efficient than the last time she'd moved it, her and Clint lugging it through their dam hideout and then in and out of the elevator at Stark Tower. She still had no idea who had moved it out of _this_ apartment back then. It had just appeared in the dam. Sam Wilson and Maria Hill had each blamed each other, which meant they'd probably done it together. And she'd never get it out of them.

She realized with a start she _really_ never would, because the versions of those people she knew, who'd helped her and Steve take down SHIELD at great personal risk, were lost to a future she'd never return to. 

For the most part, she had handled this time travel thing better than most. She wasn't thrilled with being back in this time period for Clint's sake. But personally, she didn't mourn much. She missed her cat, but she was long used to her life crumbling and having to start over. Regimes fell every day, and all that.

But friends were a rare commodity for her. They were usually hard won and she tended to hoard the ones she had. Losing them hurt. Even if they got Sam, even in Maria started hanging out with them more, she had years of stories and in-jokes that would never matter to them.

Steve and Bucky were arranging couch pieces in the truck. Bucky was fussing about the leather not getting damaged and scolding Steve about "just tossing them in there".

"How are we doing?" she asked, tossing her bag into the cab.

"Great," Steve said. 

"It'll do," Bucky said.

She shook her head and climbed in with them. "Have you given any thought to tracking down Sam?" she asked Steve.

"He's in Afghanistan." He looked over her. "And will only know me as a dude from TV."

"He knew who Captain America was." She lookout at the road. "If we do it soon we could save Riley, too."

"We can never have too much air support," Bucky said, and she could see Steve smile.

"Sam was nothing if not a good listener. Maybe he'll believe our crazy story."

"I'll call Fury," Steve said, and Nat could tell it made him happy.

She was spreading joy all over the place today.

When they drove back to the mansion, Nat hid in the back while Steve and Bucky drove the truck in. Clint had a habit lately of sitting on the roof like a gargoyle and she didn't want him to see her driving a U-haul. Right now so much stuff was coming and going that Steve driving a truck through the gates would not be worthy of him climbing down. She hoped.

They parked as close to the door as they could, angled so he shouldn't be able to see what was being unloaded. She carried a couple smaller pieces up, then they took way too long to decide how to arrange the room.

When she was satisfied, she thanked the boys and headed up to the roof. It wasn't hard to coax him down, which she took as a good sign he wasn't thinking too hard about wandering off to Australia. 

The look on his face made the entire production worth it.

"I got your back," she promised, hugging him tightly.

“Time to embrace this version of our lives, I guess.” He kissed the top of her head, then his voice pitched lower. “In this timeline, it hasn’t been christened.”

She chuckled, feeling heat pool in her. "We should do something about that." 

He kissed her, and she felt him shift and make a sharp motion with his arm. There was a thump behind them and the sound of the door swinging closed. The were too far for him to have reached it, and curiosity got her to break the kiss just to look. He'd flung his boot knife at it—behind himself, without lookin—which embedded in the door and knocked it closed.

"I'll admit," she said, sliding her hands under his shirt. "That was both very extra and very hot."

"It was convenient," he said with a shrug, because he liked to pretend he didn't show off.

She traced her fingers along the planes of his stomach. "Uh huh."

He helpfully pulled his shirt off for her, and then kissed her again. "But I'll take credit if it's turning you on."

"Well, lots of things you do turn me on."

They backed up towards the couch, and he sat, pulling her into his lap. His hands slid under her shirt and pulled it off over her head. She undid her own bra, grinning at the rasp of calluses as he peeled it down and off. She cupped his face and kissed him, rocking explicitly against his lap. He cupped her breasts, one in each hand, thumbs rubbing over her nipples. "This?" he asked.

She let out a shuddering breath. "That's definitely on the list." He bent his head to take one nipple in his mouth. Wet warmth and then a blow of cool air and then the light scrape of his teeth. He made a sound that might have been questioning, but she couldn't tell. She wasn't sure she cared.

She dug her hands into his hair, nails raking his scalp. "More." He moved to her other breast and repeated it. Then he turned, enough to drop her on her back on the couch. She lost her grip on his hair and he unbuttoned her jeans. Lifting her hips, she helped him slide them down, kicking them off completely, before reaching for his fly.

He caught her hand. "I am not done yet."

"You and your interminable patience," she said with an overwrought sigh.

He leaned in and kissed the inside of her thigh. "You'll live," he murmured.

"Hmmm." She hummed in pleasure at the faint rasp on his stubble on her sensitive skin. He'd taken her underwear off, too, so she was completely naked. She thought he'd take his time, but he had his mouth on her in seconds, pushing her legs apart as his tongue found her clit.

A groan spilled out of her and she shuddered, thighs clenching as he teased her. By now he knew all her buttons, all the ways to tease and torment her. Today he wasn't playing around. His fingers slid inside her, two and then three, stroking her just the right way.

She shuddered, body tightening around his fingers. Bracing her feet on the couch, she lifted up into him before her climax shuddered through her. When she opened her eyes again, he was just watching her and waiting. "Hey," he said with a grin.

"Hello, when did you get here."

"I have no idea. Something about a wizard and time travel."

"Oh, that's old story." She leaned over and kissed him. "Your patience done yet?"

"Maybe." He cupped one of her breasts in his hand and squeezed. "Turn around."

"Bossy, bossy," she teased, even as she obeyed, kneeling on the couch with her back to him.

"You like it," he told her, and she did. She heard his zipper and then his hands her on her hips, yanking her back to him. He filled her in one hard thrust. She couldn't help but gasp, body clenching in greeting. Without any preamble, he started to move and she shifted her hands, bracing herself more firmly as he rocked her. His hands stroked over her skin, up her spine, around her waist, over her breasts. 

She was still a bit wound from her previous climax, so pretty quickly she was thrusting back into him, skin growing hot and tight as pleasure grew. He met her stroke for stroke, bordering on too rough. It was a little frantic and wild, but it was all right. It was them.

He leaned over her, kissing the back of her neck. "I want you to come for me," he told her, his voice not much more than a growl.

She did love when he got growly. He thrust into her roughly, all but lifting her off her knees, and she let go, shuddering, into her climax. She could feel him follow her. Eventually she slumped down into the couch, and he sank down with her, still trying to catch his breath.

When they'd calmed a bit, she patted the back of the couch affectionately. "Nice and christened now."

"I love you," he said quietly. "And thank you."

"I love you back. What am I being thanked for."

"The world's greatest couch."

*

There had been a list, after the fall of SHIELD, that Maria Hill had taped up on a wall in the dam they were using as a safehouse. Clint remembered them all on yellow legal paper, across from Nat's smuggled couch. They'd recreated it best they could, and there were a number of names on it that had pissed Clint off. People he knew. People he'd liked. 

But he did then know what to expect when one of them sent him an email inviting him out for a drink. He'd known the guy twenty god-damn years, and for a moment he really wished the beer was just congratulations for his promotion.

They were two beers in before Garrett got around to it. "I hear we have some mutual friends."

Clint sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Indeed we do. Sounds like my work in New York was appreciated."

"Promotion straight from Pierce," Garrett said, nodding slowly as he brought his beer back up. "Impressive indeed."

"World isn't going to get fixed with good deeds," he replied. "Take it from an assassin."

Garrett studied him. "What's your partner think of it?"

"You know, I always thought she was loyal to SHIELD, but she was more or less willing to sell them out to Loki in return for my safety." That conversation had been Natasha manipulating Loki for information, but if Garrett checked the tapes—which he probably would—that's what he would see.

"So she's on your side more than anything else?"

"Pretty much. I think she'd be useful."

"Definitely. To be honest, we've had our eyes on you two for a long time."

"I don't doubt it. I'm the best marksman in the world."

"And she's one of our top interrogators. Be a big get."

Clint took a long drink of his beer. "I'll see what I can do."

Garrett grinned, leaning back in his chair, lifting his glass as if in a salute. "Much obliged."

He texted Nat as he walked back to his car. _Ready to join the dark side?_

_Do they have cookies?_

_If they do, they're shitty ones. Like oatmeal raisin._

_Oh, God. They ARE evil._

She was waiting up when he got home. Apparently she had made cookies, and saved some for him. "You're a good wife," he told her.

"I try." She took a bite of her cookie. "It went well, I take it?"

"They're excited to have us both as recruits." He sat beside her. "You're better at artifice than me."

"It is the story of my life."

"You'll join, and then bring in Sharon, and then I think we'll be in a good spot."

She nodded and rested her head on his shoulder. "Are you okay? You need a shower or a run with Bucky or anything?"

"I'm okay," he said with a sigh. "It's nice to be contributing to the cause, considering how useless I was last time. Though I shower sound good. Wanna join?"

Smiling, she gave a familiar head tilt. "Always."

They had a lot of shower sex lately. Perhaps because it felt particularly private in this very full house. It was plenty of space, they weren't at all on top of each other. But it wasn't the same has everyone having apartments is the very well sound-proofed tower.

Afterwards they sat around eating cookies wrapped in towels.

"You know I looked up the reports from the fight on the helicarrier," Clint said.

She arched a brow over her cookie. "Oh?"

"Seems I killed less people than the first time."

"The whole thing seemed less of a debacle than the first time around."

He looked at her. "You stopped me faster."

"It helped not getting terrified by the Hulk." She pointed as if a thought occurred to her. "And how to stop you."

He grinned and reached for another cookie. "You knew a mild concussion was the answer."

"Over the years I've found a mild concussion is the answer to a lot of my problems."

"I've just been thinking about how in this timeline, there are a more people still alive than were before."

"Does this please or concern you?"

"A few of the survivors were probably Hydra. But mostly please."

"I'm glad," she said, reaching out to poke him with her foot.

He rubbed her ankle. "I don't like pretending to be Hydra. But it does feel like I'm putting what happened to good use."

"It's probably the best you can do. And I do think we're going to do a lot of good here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand we're pausing again. We're working on a big group fic about the takedown of Hydra, and this story will pick back up again after that. And first, we'll be posting the first few chapters of the Amanda/Bucky story. Stay tuned!


End file.
